I Won't Get Burned
by spicea11347
Summary: Red Tail - a meta-human with unknown abilities - tells her story about being with the Meta-Breed. First chapter's setting will be explained through out series. This is a HOTSTREAK/OC story. No yaoi here. I wanted to write this so yeah, Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone, I know if you're a fan of my work in general, you're probably pissed that I'm not working on my Hiei story, or my Fred/George story. But yeah, so here this is. I got really bored and saw some reruns and I remembered how much I loved the show. I even may make a Richie story later, but for now here is this Hotstreak/Francis + OC story. Enjoy! Oh yeah, rted T for language, possibly rated higher later on, but not for a while.**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, I know. Sadly, I do not own Static Shock. If I did… that'd be really cool! But so yeah, I don't any characters created for the cartoon Static Shock. I only own my character! Who, by the way is really cool… um yeah… onto the story!**

In a small dark room stood a rectangular table in the middle. A lamp sat on the table illuminating two faces. On the right side was a man who sat in one of two chairs. The man was somewhere in his mid-forties. He had graying hair which was slicked back. The color of his eyes could not be determined due to the black tinted sunglasses that rested snug against his face. Adorned in a black silk Armani suit, he sat straight and rigid. His elbows rested on the edge of the black table with his laced together in front of his face.

In the second chair sat a young girl no older than eighteen. Her head swayed back and forth; she was completely disoriented. Her brown hair which held dark red undertones swayed with her. It was thrown over the back of the chair and reached closed to her hips in uncombed waves. She was dressed in a ripped up, snug fitting, scoop neck black t-shirt with white embroidered designs, and baggy, black, cargo, Bermuda shorts. She scuffed her black, suede shoes with the practically glowing, neon green shoelaces across the linoleum floor. Her head stopped swaying after some time and her piercing blue eyes focused in on the man across from her. They narrowed into a glare and it seemed as if her eyes were caught in a ripple.

She went to move her left hand to pull back a strand of her dark hair, but was halted. Looking down to her wrist, she saw a chain bolted to the table. Her eyes ventured up the rest of her arm and saw a small, silver, armband that completely contrasted her olive skin.

"Rebekah Collins-" the man started, but was soon interrupted by the girl.

"It's Red Tail," she corrected him.

He sat there for a moment, "Alright, Red Tail, what do you know about the Meta-Breed?" he finished.

A wide smirk etched its way onto the girl's face, showing off her sharp, pearly white teeth, "Everything."

The two sat in silence except for the scuffing of the girl's shoes. Minutes ticked by as neither said a word.

"What are you going to tell me about the Meta-Breed?" he asked.

The smirk remained, as her eyes narrowed slightly, "Nothing."

A matching smirk appeared on the man's face. No more than a second passed before the girl began to have compulsions. She screamed at the top of her lungs as her body shook. After what seemed like an eternity – but was only a few seconds – the compulsions stopped.

Red Tail began panting heavily as small beads of sweat rolled down her forehead and down her cheeks, "What was that?!?" she spat at him angrily.

He snickered, "That little band on your arm is interlinked with your nerves and sends electrical currents through out your body when I press this," the man unlaced his hands to reveal a small, black remote with one gray button in the middle of it.

The girl's blue eyes narrowed dangerously as the man asked her again, "Now, what will you tell me about the Meta-Breed?"

Red Tail's glare remained, but a smirk found its way onto her olive face, "Like I said before, nothing."

Her body began to shake violently once more and her thoughts began to race. Again, she screamed as the pain racked through her very being. Soon, the compulsions stopped and the girl was left panting even more heavily than before.

When she had control of her body once again, her right hand began to change; her nails increased in length, measuring close to one and a half inches. Said hand reached across Red Tail's body and towards her left arm. As soon as her fingers graced the silver armband, she started pulling at it and scratching at her own skin so she could disconnect it from her nerves the hard way.

The man across from her stood up abruptly, sending his chair to the ground in his hurry, "What are you doing?!? It's interlinked with your nerves!"

He tried to reason with her, but she would not have it. The girl was close to tearing it out as another wave of electrical currents coursed through her. As it finished she was left panting and sweating.

"Maybe that'll teach you. You can't do anything. You'll learn soon enough," the man in the suit replied with a satisfied smirk and sat down after picking up his chair.

Red Tail showed the man her sharp, pearly white teeth as she growled at him, "I can't be tamed!"

As the words left her mouth, her clawed hand took hold of the silver armband and pulled at it. Doing so, she clamped her eyes shut at the pain of the wires being torn away from her nerves. She dug her sharp teeth into her bottom lip, preventing herself from screaming at the excruciating pain.

A few seconds passed before the girl pulled the armband off. She sat for a moment, not moving an inch, before she opened her eyes and stopped biting on her bottom lip.

The man in front of the young girl was shocked to say the least. As his covered eyes gazed at the girl's blue ones, he saw her determination. Looking at her glare and smirk he knew she would keep defying him.

The young girl – with a now sore arm – would not tell them anything about the Meta-Breed. They were her new family. She would not give up any information on them. No matter what.

The man sighed and stood up. As he did so he lifted his hand into the air and with his index and middle finger he signaled for something. Out of the darkness and shadows appeared two men. Both were tall – measuring close to six foot five. Both wore suits and black, tinted sunglasses like the first man.

They stood on either side of the girl and held an arm each. The first man – who compared to the other two, was much shorter – walked over to the girl. He pulled out a key from the chest pocket of his Armani suit. He unlocked the chain that was on her wrist and pulled out a pair of unique handcuffs. They did not look like any other kind of handcuffs. It seemed they were reinforced with concrete or some other type of durable rock. Cleary meant to last and stand any Meta-Human. The man slapped them down on the girl's petite wrists.

"Stand up, you're going back to her ceil," he ordered the girl.

All Red Tail did was raise an eyebrow as she gave him a look; why-would-I-do-that? The man sighed irritably and nodded to the other two men. Forcefully, the lifted the girl up onto her feet and held onto her forearm, making sure she didn't try anything.

Red Tail sighed as her eyes traveled to the floor, then to her hands. The handcuffs were lasting; she knew she would not be able to bust them, not in her current weakened state. She looked down to her elongated nails and they soon shrunk back to their normal length.

Before she knew it she was back in front of her ceil. The two men held onto her as the first – who had been walking in front of them – pulled out the key again and unlocked the handcuffs. As soon as the handcuffs were off she was thrown into the ceil. She landed on the bed and the door was shut and triple bolted before a bulletproof glass door slid in front of the ceil door with only tiny holes at the top for air.

"I feel like a damned, caged animal! I hate this place!" the brunette screeched.

Once again, her nails – this time on both hands – elongated as she stood up. She walked over to the far wall of her ceil and began to claw at it. Deep gashes began to form into the brick.

After releasing some of her anger, Red Tail stopped, and rested her hands and head on the brick.

"I wonder if they'll come for me… but they know they'll be at danger… it wouldn't be like them to come get me," she muttered to herself.

She turned around and slid down the wall, "Will I be saved?"

Red Tail pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapped her arms on top of them and laid her head down on her arms.

The young girl began to think about the beginning, but there was a problem; where was the beginning for her new life? Was it when she officially became Red Tail? Or when she met the others? No. It was defiantly when she met that one boy, when she first moved to this city. Yes, that was it. It seemed so long ago now, looking back on it, but that is where she must start her thinking. She must start from the very beginning. Or she would confuse even herself.

**Okay everyone here's chapter one. I do not promise chapter two will be out anytime soon, but I do promise, the more reviews, the more likely  
I am to push this to the top of my to do list. So please, for the love of God, REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone! Here - after a more than long awaited time - is the second installment of my Hotstreak story. I do hope you enjoy. I plan to start to elaborate on everything in the next two or three chapters. But here is the opening! Now, this takes place about a month or so before the big bang, just so you know. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or any other the characters from it. I own Rebekah Collins, and that's it.**

The first day. Three little words that would eventually turn a young girl's whole world upside down. But for now, she only knew it as the first day of a new school, in a new city.

A young brunette walked to her new school – Dakota Union High – with her head held high and her eyes set on the school in front of her. A black shoulder bag bounced against a jean clad thigh, as the girl walked through the front doors of the school. Said girl wandered down hall after hall with everyone glancing at her. She was new. She was going to be the center of most conversations for awhile. It didn't bother her, she was used to it. She decided not to walk down the middle of the hall but instead she slightly hugged the right side.

As her blue eyes stayed focus on the pathway in front of her, she saw from her peripherals a boy with fire red hair all spiked up with a golden streak through it. He leaned against the lockers with his arms crossed over his broad chest. She could tell, without even looking at him, he was staring at her, but she would not give him the time of day.

The boy pushed himself off the lockers and practically sauntered over to the brunette as she continued down the hall. She watched him, but would not look at him directly, for she did not want to deal with him.

"Hey," he called out to her as he continued to make his way over to her.

The young brunette did not respond – or even show a sign that she heard him – but she watched him from the corner of her eye, curious as to what he would do, now that she had ignored him.

"Hey! I'm talking to you," he called out as he proceeded to walk towards the girl before slamming his hand into a locker in front of her, blocking her exit.

With a sigh, the girl turned to face the boy has he leaned in somewhat. Her right hip was cocked out as she waited for him to say something, and when he didn't, she sighed once more and ran a hand through her brunette locks, pulling back her bangs for a moment.

"Well? What?" she asked sharply, wanting to get this meeting done and over with as soon as she could.

The boy smirked, "Name's F-Stop, what's-" the boy did not get a chance to finish.

"F-Stop?" the blue eyed girl raised an eyebrow at his 'name', "I highly doubt your mom named you 'F-Stop', what's your real name?" she asked him as she placed her hand on her cocked out hip.

The boy's smirk faltered slightly as he answered, "It's Francis."

Beaming a bright smile, she answered, "Well it's nice to meet you Francis, name's Rebekah."

The smirk returned to Francis' face as he looked the girl up and down, "Rebekah huh? Nice name. Nice outfit. Though it would look better crumpled and laying on the floor somewhere," as the last sentence left his mouth left his mouth, the red head leaned in a little more, so the conversation was slightly more private.

"Is that supposed to pass as a compliment these days?" Rebekah asked as she crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at the boy.

The boy didn't get a chance to respond as the brunette pushed his arm out of the way and began to walk off towards her first class. By this time a fair amount of people had gathered around to watch what would happen to the new girl. Francis took a look around at all the people who were watching him with amused smirks, knowing he couldn't handle this girl. The smirk that had been on the boy's face quickly left as he stalked over to the girl, and again slam his arms against the lockers, blocking her exit once again. Sighing heavily, she turned to face him with an annoyed expression.

"You should be happy I'm talking to you. You're the new girl, no one's gonna talk to you," he stated with a sickly sweet smile.

"Oh?" Rebekah asked as she raised a hand to her chest in a curious manner, "Really? So I'm supposed to be grateful you're talking to me?"

Francis smirked and leaned in slightly, "Exactly."

The brunette smiled lustfully and her blue eyes sparkled, "Oh, then let me show you how grateful I am."

With this she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him towards her. The boy's smirk grew as he closed his eyes in preparation for what he thought would be a kiss. As soon as his eyes closed, Rebekah's smile turned sour and she rammed her knee up. Francis' eyes widened and he almost collapsed to the floor.

"Can you see how grateful I am?" she asked with an attitude.

With a scoff, she pushed past him and made her way to her first class. Thinking of her first class, she pulled out of her pocket a piece of paper that had been folded a countless number of times. Rebekah unfolded it and glanced down at the black writing that was her schedule. English. It was her first class. With that thought in mind, she re-folded the piece of paper and shoved it into her jeans' pocket. She adjusted the shoulder bag she carried as she wandered the halls until she came to a room. 319. She remembered it was the number of the English classroom and she was realized. She thought she was going to have to travel through the whole school just to find her first class. The brunette walked in through the open door and glanced around. The walls were painted lavender and were covered with posters from different Shakespeare plays. It was a fairly large room and instead of desks – which are what she would have expected – there were tables which she assumed would accommodate two people. Averting her blue-gray eyed gaze, she turned her head and saw the teacher. A man in his early forties maybe, with brown, short hair, matching eyes and thin framed glasses. She walked up to the teacher – whose name she caught on a plate was Mr. Mooney.

The professor glanced up from some paper on his desk, readjusted his glasses and smiled at the brunette, "May I help you?" he asked in an all too feminine voice.

Rebekah returned her teacher's smile, "Hi, I'm Rebekah Collins, I just transferred here. This is English II, right?" she asked.

She didn't know how it was physically possible, but Mr. Mooney's smile grew as he stood up and shook her hand, "It's nice to meet you Rebekah. And yes, this is English II; you're in the right place. You may take a seat over there," he stated in an overly happy voice, while he pointed to a desk – or table – in the back.

The smile remained on the olive skinned girl's face as she walked to said seat. Rebekah placed her bag on the table as she sat down in the obnoxiously yellow chair. She pulled out a notebook and a pencil from her bag and placed them next to a book that was already on her desk. After she placed her bag on the floor, she glanced at the title of the book; _The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet_. She rolled her blue eyes as she opened her notebook to the first clean page as the bell rang.

Mr. Mooney stood up from his seat, "Hello class. This next unit we will be covering is going to be on one of Shakespeare's greatest works, and most known. The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet. Now-" the wonderfully, ecstatic teacher was interrupted as a noise altered him to the door.

Everyone turned to look and majority of the class gasped. Except for Rebekah. She groaned in displeasure. A teenage boy, with flame red hair, came strutting into the class. Francis.

The teacher raised an eyebrow and a hand found his cocked out hip, "Mr. Stone? This must be a first. It's a rare occurrence to see you in my class. Well, better late than never, I always say, now take your seat."

There was only seat open. It was next to the brunette. Of course. That was Rebekah's luck. Rolling her eyes, she paid attention to Mr. Mooney's instructions as the boy came to sit by her. She decided to ignore the look he gave her.

"Hey there, Bekah," had he already given her a nickname?

She glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow, "Can I help you?" she kept her voice hushed so her teacher wouldn't hear the conversation.

His arms crossed themselves on top of the table and he leaned towards the brunette slightly, "That was a very obscene move from such a pristine girl," he said leering at her.

"One, I'm surprised you know what obscene means. Two, I'm not that pristine," she stated with a wide smirk.

This, in turn, caused the boy to raise an eyebrow suggestively as he leaned in even closer to the girl, "Really now?"

"Don't get any ideas."

He chuckled lightly to himself, "So we on for a date Saturday?"

Rebekah turned to him with a confused expression on her olive face, "Excuse me? I just kneed you in the crotch for being an ass, do you think I'm gonna go on a date with you?"

He smirked, "There's a chance. You can't resist me."

This earned a roll of blue eyes from the girl, "Could you be anymore egotistical?"

**Okay that's it everyone! Hope you like it! Please, for the love of all that is good, review! I love them. They give me life. If I don't get them, I die... then I won't be writing anymore.**


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